


Come pour yourself all over me

by Salat



Series: The Adventures of Blonde Twins [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, FIFA Confederations Cup 2017, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, cute Jonas, daredevil Joshua, frustrated Marc, teasing Bernd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salat/pseuds/Salat
Summary: “Babe,” he calls but it’s blank silence he gets in response. Not minding the kissing noises.“Bernd,” he tries again more firmly but the other clearly ignores the whole world, involving Marc all of a sudden as he’s obviously having sex with ter Stegen. Or trying to have it.“Bernd fucking Leno,” Marc yells this time because what the hell.or, Marc and Bernd’s way to properly celebrate the Confederations Cup win.
Relationships: Bernd Leno/Marc-André ter Stegen
Series: The Adventures of Blonde Twins [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1513754
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Come pour yourself all over me

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came to me when I saw this [post](https://salat-enot.tumblr.com/post/190323457004/manuelsneuer-germany-nt-during-l%C3%B6ws-post-match). I’d already seen it a couple of times before, but this was the first time I spotted Bernd there as well. With that I started thinking about what they would do to celebrate the win after that press conference and a ‘little’ party with the team. And okay, that’s what I got from my mind. Nothing special, really.
> 
> The title is from ‘Stay the Night’ by Zedd ft. Heyley Williams.
> 
> Also known as ‘sticky celebration fic’. And it’s some kind of a sequel to [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20795918/chapters/49449944).

They finally make it to their room around 4 am, both too tired to talk but not really tired for having some celebration sex. Sloppy kisses and light touches they shared at the lift become heated as the door closes behind them. It doesn’t take Marc much to start begging for more, but Bernd decides to keep their usual pace with teasing here and there. Not really useful for their exhausted bodies and minds but Marc isn’t in the place to complain. 

Bernd licks a long strip from his collarbone up to his neck and kisses him firmly behind the ear, making the other goalie let out a moan that is too loud for a hotel room. For Bernd’s surprise Marc still smells and tastes like champagne, which says that in that mess of the dressing room after the win and everything Barca’s keeper hasn’t taken a shower. His skin is covered not only with clothes and the blue ribbon but with a lair of alcohol their teammates and Bernd himself have poured on him earlier that evening. The silly tradition now makes so much sense Bernd hasn’t been thinking about before, but definitely likes so far. 

Marc’s breath gets heavier and heavier with every kiss Bernds leaves on his neck. With the tiredness Marc feels in every cell of his body it takes him more than he expects to start panting and falling apart under Bernd’s touches. If Bernd wasn’t too occupied with his new favorite bed activity, he would find out how hard Marc already is. 

And that he still has his shirt on. 

But Bernd’s natural passion for competitions decides the other way and turns the foreplay into a mission of finding out how much of his boyfriend is covered with champagne. Pretty exciting mission if you ask Bernd. 

By the time he decides to take the shirt off of ter Stegen Marc’s neck is pretty clear from any alcohol. But there is definitely more, because Bernd also remembers one of their teammates pouring out a whole bottle on them in the dressing room after the press conference. He tugs the piece of clothes lightly, letting Marc do all the work himself and the other willingly obeys. 

Bernd bites his earlobe and lowers to his abs where the taste is strong but not strong enough to get him high. Marc moans again feeling Bernd’s tongue doing some kind of art with his body. Marc’s hands fisting the sheets, his fingers white from the grip on soft material. He can’t keep his mind clear and asks the other goalie to hurry up, all the thoughts in his head are so messed up he doesn’t understand any. 

But one of them is straight enough to make Marс follow its lead. With the tournament over they are finally allowed to leave marks on each other, but Bernd continues the torture, licking and biting his upper body just slightly. Marc doesn’t feel his hands as if Bernd tries not to touch him, and that lack of the contact is getting Marc really frustrated. There is at least one part of him that deserves to be touched like right now. 

“Babe,” he calls but it’s blank silence he gets in response. Not minding the kissing noises. 

“Bernd,” he tries again more firmly but the other clearly ignores the whole world, involving Marc all of a sudden as he’s obviously having sex with ter Stegen. Or trying to have it. 

“Bernd fucking Leno,” Marc yells this time because what the hell. Bernd lifts his head at the sound of his name like a dog, absolutely servile. Something in his gaze takes Marc’s breath away. As it always does. 

“You taste like champagne,” the other says, but Marc doesn’t get it. 

“Care to explain?” ter Stegen asks, feeling the mood starting to vanish out of the sight. Bernd inhales and exhales slowly, getting up to kiss Marc on the lips.

_Who could have imagined that it would be Julian Brand guiding the squad into the room where Marc and Low were speaking with the press. Not Bernd, but in that exact moment he considered everything was possible._

_They weren’t really drunk yet, but the room was already spinning around, buzzing with emotions of the team and the press combined. It didn’t feel real, but it was indeed that way and everyone was a hundred times happier that he thought they would. The medal felt heavy on Bernd’s neck, the cup quite the opposite didn’t. Laugh here and there, some people screaming and singing chants on the tops of their lungs, that was how a dream coming true felt like._

_Bernd looked at Marc who was trying to escape the alcohol rain by running away from drops of champagne and beer. He was unexpectedly calm for a man who had just won an international tournament. Yeah, of course it wasn’t the World cup, but Bernd could get it as a start for them both, playing and winning things as important as that one._

_“Hey you,” Bernd said playfully when the hero of the night approached him in the dressing room. Marc hooked his arm around Bernd’s shoulders, drawing him closer to leave a quick kiss on his temple. No one was paying them any attention and Bernd allowed himself to lean to the touch like a big cat._

_They stayed almost wrapped around each other in this blissful moment as their teammates stormed into and out of the room with bottles of alcohol. Only Jonas sat here, talking to someone on the phone. He was completely lost to the world, giggling and blushing as the person on the other side obviously kept complimenting his performance._

_Marc and Bernd paid Jonas the same respect he was showing to them, looking only at each other and smiling as crazy as if they had lost their minds. Bernd’s fingers found their way to the blue ribbon, he weighted the gold medal in his hand and played with the soft material that held it. Bernd was about to drag Marc closer by the ribbon when someone yelled next to them. They looked at the intruder at the same time only for him to catch both keepers off guard by pouring the whole bottle he had in his hands all over them._

_“Fuck you, Kimmich!” Bernd groaned but the man in question was already somewhere outside of the room, not hearing the swears Bernd was ready to say. “Kids, they all are,” Leno muttered under his breath instead, feeling his clothes and skin getting sticky. Marc chuckled softly and kissed him on the wet cheek._

“Oh it turns you on then?” Marc asks with a wink. Bernd doesn’t respond, trying not to look in Marc’s eyes, but ter Stegen cups his blushing cheeks and makes their gazes meet. “I don’t mind. I just want to feel you, in every way,” he explains. Bernd leans closer to kiss Marc without any other words and ter Stegen opens his mouth immediately. Their tongues slide against each other and Marc moans at the contact, feeling Bernd’s palms squeezing his waist. Within a second the kiss turns into heated one and they have to pull away to take a breath. Bernd smiles at Marc, resting his forehead against ter Stegen’s and giving him another kiss on the nose. 

“I have to go grab...” 

“Do we really need them?” Marc opens his eyes to search for some kind of uncertainty in Bernd’s gaze and there is none. 

“Are you sure about that?” But of course he asks again. Instead of answering the question Marc kisses him and takes the medal off of his neck, placing it on the nightstand next to his own. 

“Come on, I want you,” Marc whispers seductively. Bernd’s fingers sneak into his shorts, squeezing Marc’s dick lightly. “Oh fuck you, Leno. Take you fucking shirt off already,” Marc begs which is not actually his thing but with Bernd being a complete shit about teasing he’s okay with anything that helps him to get laid. And as an asshole he is Bernd does that licking thing again. He puts his tongue right above the waistband of Marc’s shorts but that time to leave finally a little bruise here. Marc’s breath hitches as Bernd sucks the skin into his mouth and then a moan escapes the back of ter Stegen’s throat. 

Marc lifts his hips to let Bernd strip him out of the clothes. Guiding Marc’s legs apart the other keeper gets even lower to bite the inside of ter Stegen’s thigh, making his heart lose some beats.

“You still have some champagne here,” Bernd murmurs near Marc’s cock and ter Stegen whines. 

“I’ve won the fucking cup not for getting rejected by my own boyfriend. Can you please fuck me already?” 

To be fair Marc looks really desperate and he doesn’t understand why Bernd remains so obsessed with that champagne thing, but he also doesn’t have enough strength to find out the reasons. 

“Oh yeah, I can,” Bernd bites his other thigh and ter Stegen shifts lightly. He’s sure he won't be able to stand another round of teasing and for his relief Bernd somehow gets it without words, wrapping his skilful fingers around Marc’s dick. Marc thinks that the first move will be enough to make him come undone but luckily he’s wrong. Bernd strokes the head with his thumb and Marc’s lungs tighten, making it uncomfortable for him to take a breath. He’s on the edge already and still not getting what he wants the most. 

“Inside,” Marc barely brings himself to say it. “I need you inside,” he begs again and Bernd finally shows him mercy. He drags his other hand down and pushes one finger in without any lube because it lays abandoned in the bathroom as well as the condoms. 

“Fuck,” Marc moans painfully, making Bernd stop and look at him with a smirk. 

“I’m trying!” 

“Try harder,” ter Stegen yells in response because he can’t hold it anymore. 

“For that, baby, I need lube. And for that I have to leave you and go to the bathroom,” Bernd explains in that parental voice as he always does wish his nieces. Marc considers he’s not far from them with his ability to understand real words right now. The only reason he lets Bernd talk with him like this is that Marc can’t think straight. (And that he loves Bernd much more than he hates being treated as a little kid). 

As he detects the word ‘leave’ in that bunch of words escapes Bernd’s lips Marc grabs his left hand that holds Marc’s leg and squeezes it tightly, refusing to let him go. 

“Don’t,” he adds. 

And Bernd stays. 

***

The next morning starts with someone trying to break into their room. Bernd takes one look at his phone which tells him that the person outside is gonna be so dead when he opens that door. 

For Bernd’s surprise it’s Kimmich again. He looks like he hasn’t slept the night, still in his playing kit with a medai on his neck and a stain of some food on his cheek. 

“Leno,” he says and winces at the sound of his own voice. 

“Kimmich,” Bernd mirrors with the same tone. “Anything you want?” he speaks again when Joshua remains silent for about a minute or two. 

“What are you doing here?” Kimmich asks dumbly, blinking slowly. Bernd regrets that he left his phone on the bedside table. 

“In my room? Oh let me think...” but Joshua isn’t listening him, already starting to go down the hall. 

Bernd closes the door with a thought of having another hour of sleep, but his plans are ruined because Kimmich must have woken Marc up too. He looks adorable in beams of morning light, but that smile on his lips seems more like a threat to Bernd. 

“Are you aware that you’re wearing my shorts?” Marc asks as if he’s just wondering if his boyfriend is stupid enough to reveal the truth to the first stranger walking next to their door. 

“I am...” Bernd lowers his gaze to the number 22 printed on the side of a green piece of clothes and admits reluctantly, but for Marc it’s pretty obvious that he is not. “Don’t worry, it was Kimmich and he looked really hangover,” Bernd steps closer to the bed where Marc is curled up in the soft sheets, completely naked under it. 

“Oh, I’m not worrying about Kimmich,” Marc adds, grabbing him by the hand and making Bernd fall into his arms. Bernd kisses him shortly on the lips and then on the temple too. 

“Mhm, you still taste like champagne,” he teases again. 

“Oh fuck you, Leno. I’m breaking up with you!” 

Ter Stegen’s yelp matches with Bernd’s laugh as Barca’s goalie is trying to get out from his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! xx  
> please, leave comments and kudos  
> come talk to me about this or anything about steno or like anything at all, [my tumblr](http://salat-enot.tumblr.com/)


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